


Bedside stories

by Ellstra



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Background Relationships, Engineer Armitage Hux, M/M, Smuggler Ben Solo, they're not part of the FO
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-29
Updated: 2018-06-29
Packaged: 2019-05-30 12:26:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15096686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ellstra/pseuds/Ellstra
Summary: Ben Solo meets a dazzling boy on a business trip with his father. They discuss their future paths, and leave never to see each other again. Ben almost gives us hope, and then he meets Armie completely out of the blue twenty years later.





	Bedside stories

**Author's Note:**

  * For [valda](https://archiveofourown.org/users/valda/gifts).



> Thank you to Heather for this prompt, it was a lot of fun to work with! I hope you guys enjoy this fic!

The Millenium Falcon landed smoothly, and Ben bolted out of his chair before Han finished the security procedures. 

“What did I say about running about the ship, Ben?” Han called, exasperated. 

“We flew for so long,” Ben whined, pressed against the viewport, “I want to go outside!”

“You won’t go anywhere if you split your head open. Come on, give me a hand here.”

Ben dutifully made his way to Han’s side and helped him land and secure the ship. Ben didn’t need Han’s directions anymore – he had his set of tasks he was able to tend to even with his small hands, and he moved from one to the next without hesitation.

“Can I come with you?” Ben asked, “I promise I won’t talk.”

“Sure thing,” Han agreed, checking Ben’s work. He fixed the things that required more strength than a five year old could muster. Ben beamed. 

His eyes widened with awe when they left the Falcon. The spaceport was an enormous maze, the biggest and most intricate Ben had been to. He looked around with excitement, taking in as much of the scene as possible. He held Han’s hand, trusting his father to guide him while he stared upwards, eyes searching for the high ceiling. It was a busy port, and Ben was torn between admiring the architecture and studying all the people around him. He’d been to Coruscant of course, which was said to be the busiest city in the galaxy, but looking around him, he could easily say that this place was where life was happening. 

He didn’t have the time to admire everything accordingly – his father was headed somewhere, and he moved fast with the unmistakable hastiness of someone who was late but didn’t want to tell their child to hurry for fear of a tantrum. Ben was wracking his brains searching for a loophole in the old “no wandering at spaceports” rule, which had been installed after Han had missed a deal hunting Ben down the enormous port on Hosnian Prime. 

“Dad, are we going far?” Ben asked.

“No. Why do you ask?” 

“If we’re not going far… then I could stay here and wait for you? I won’t go anywhere, I’ll stay here and watch. Please.” 

“I thought you wanted to come with me to the shop,” Han pointed out. Ben tried his best to appear mature and responsible, which wasn’t entirely easy with his missing tooth and ill-fitting clothes. He’d hit a growth spurt a little while back and his wardrobe had some difficulties keeping up with it. 

“I did,” Ben agreed, “but this spaceport is so interesting!”

“The shop is in the spaceport,” Han said, “I’ll let you wait outside but only in the sight of it, okay? Is that fair?”

“Okay,” Ben nodded, a gap-toothed grin spreading on his face. 

The crowds thinned a little as they approached the shop, but there was still plenty to study for Ben, and he knew better than to test his luck. 

“Here we go, Ben. This is the shop – I want you to always be in sight of it. You can’t see the door, you’re in trouble. Am I clear?”

“Yes. I promise.”

“Okay. I won’t take long, and then we can go get some ice cream together, how’s that sound?”

“Awesome,” Ben sighed. 

“Great. Then don’t do anything stupid,” Han said one last time and ruffled Ben’s hair. “I’ll be there if you need me. You can come in if you need something.”

“Yes, yes,” Ben muttered. He was five years old, he wasn’t a baby that needed to be patronized. He knew better than to voice his complaints though, so he waited patiently until his father disappeared into the shop before walking away, keeping in mind the rule of not losing sight of it. He was looking up, trying to tell if the ceiling really wasn’t there or if it was just an optical illusion, when he collided with someone. 

The force of the impact wasn’t great but he still wavered, reaching instinctively for something to hold onto. His fall was broken by a hand not much bigger than his own.

“Sorry,” Ben mumbled, looking up. In front of him, still holding his hand, was a boy a little older than Ben himself. His hair was so brightly red it seemed to be on fire, and he wore a grey uniform comprising of a jacket, shorts and knee-high boots, leaving the boy’s knees bare.

“Look where you’re going every once in a while, huh,” said the boy, his accent a little peculiar but comprehensible. 

“I was looking for the ceiling,” Ben explained, pointing upwards.

“It’s an illusion,” the boy confirmed Ben’s previous suspicion, “it’s a viewport, that projects the sky on the side turned inwards.”

“How do you know?”

“We learnt that in school,” the boy said, “you’ll learn too, when you’re older.”

“Mom says I’ll go to Jedi school, with uncle Luke,” Ben pointed out, “do you go to Jedi school?”

“No, of course not,” the boy frowned, “what Jedi school?”

“He’s still working on it, I think,” said Ben with a shrug, “what school do you go in then?”

“The Arkanis Academy.” The boy tapped the emblem on the shoulder of his jacket, as if Ben should have known. Ben had never heard of the Arkanis Academy, but the boy said it very solemnly, so it had a good school.

“Are you here with your parents?” Ben asked, feeling for a safe ground in the conversation. 

“No,” the boy said, and Ben could feel he was upset by the question. That seemed odd to Ben – why would someone be upset at the mention of their parents? Ben loved talking about his parents. 

“I’m Ben,” he tried instead. He realised only then that they were still holding hands, so he shifted his grip a little to make it feel more like a handshake. The boy’s hand was better suited for his palm than those of the politicians who thought pretending to like him was a way to get to his mother. 

“Armie.” He gave Ben a little smile. “Nice to meet you.”

Ben grinned, baring his teeth. He could see that Armie’s teeth were growing in too, a little funny and crooked, and it made him feel better.

“I’m here on a school trip,” Armie explained, apparently determined to mend his previous rudeness, “this planet has several architectonic wonders to offer, so they took us here to study them. This port included.”

Ben was not entirely certain what to say to that because he knew little about architecture, but he liked the sound of Armie’s voice and wanted him to keep talking, so he picked up the last word and used it. “Do you study ports?” 

“No, I’m interested in engineering,” Armie said, “the people of this planet are very creative with their technology. The galaxy has a lot to learn from them.”

“I like this planet too,” Ben replied, beaming eagerly, “there are so many people here. I’ve never seen so many people.”

“Really? You’re lucky then,” Armie shrugged, “You wouldn’t be so happy to see people if you had to sleep in a room with twenty other boys.”

“I don’t like sleeping alone. I get scared.”

“Oh,” Armie said, obviously taken aback. Ben wondered if that meant that Armie was fearless or if he simply forgot what it was like to be a child afraid of the dark. “But you have your parents to help you with that, right? That’s something.” 

“Mhhm. But I don’t want to be afraid. I want to be like you!” Ben pointed out, “You’re so awesome.”

“You don’t meet that many boys your age, do you?” 

“I travel with daddy a lot,” Ben shrugged, “and there aren’t many children at home.”

“At home, with your Jedi uncle?” 

The way Armie asked the question made Ben feel a little uneasy. He furrowed his brow – it was as if the friendliness went away from Armie’s voice. But Ben didn’t do anything wrong, did he? 

“Uncle Luke doesn’t live with us. He just comes to visit us or Uncle Wedge. Mom says Uncle Luke would never come to visit if Uncle Wedge wasn’t there.”

“I thought the Jedi can’t get married.”

“I don’t know if they’re married,” Ben shrugged, “maybe they just love each other very much. Daddy says that’s the most important thing.”

“My parents don’t love each other,” Armie said, a little too sharply. Ben started. Armie appeared to be sad about it, and trying very hard to hide it. Ben knew that feeling – it was like when he tried to hide his tears after he scraped his knees and he didn’t want daddy to see he was crying. He couldn’t stop crying but he could hide his tears. Ben didn’t know what to say so he did what he felt his father would do – he wrapped his arms around Armie and squeezed. 

Armie seemed surprised – he went rigid in Ben’s arms, as if unsure what to do. Then he slowly relaxed and embraced Ben back. Ben didn’t let go until Armie did, and Armie seemed to really need the hug. It made Ben sad. His dad hugged him all the time, or Uncle Chewie, or mum, when she wasn’t busy. Ben loved hugs. 

“Thank you,” Armie mumbled when he pulled away. 

“Come home with us!” Ben suggested, beaming at the brilliance of his idea. “Daddy will take care of you. Threepio makes the best cookies, do you like cookies?”

“I can’t come with you,” Armie said, “I have to go to school. I have to make my parents proud.”

“But your parents are bad,” Ben protested, with a frown. 

“Not all of us have nice parents, Ben. Besides, don’t your parents want you go to your uncle’s Jedi school?”

“Yes, but-”

“Well do  _ you  _ want to go to Jedi school?” Armie asked, a glimmer of something scary crossing his eyes. Ben was afraid of him for a while; Armie was frowning like the bad men in the holos Ben watched with his dad. 

“I don’t– I don’t know,” he mumbled, taken aback by the question. “I’ll want to when I grow up.”

“And I won’t have to live with my parents or go to school when I’m grown up. I’ll be an officer, you know. A General. The best. And everyone will fear me,” Armie said, raising his chin defiantly. Ben could see the General in Armie. 

“You will be a good General,” he assured Armie. Armie seemed to thaw at the praise. 

“Do you think?” he asked, sheepish. Ben grinned and nodded.

“Then I hope you’ll be a good Jedi.”

“I have to be,” Ben shrugged.

“Why? Because your uncle is one?” 

“And my grandpa was one. Mum says I am powerful and I have to learn to use my power responsibly.” 

“But do you have to use it?” Armie asked. “You could just go to school with me, and become an officer, or an engineer. Nobody would have to know.”

“Do you think so?” Ben looked up, hopeful. The Force was something he’d always considered an undeniable part of him. But mum wasn’t a Jedi either. Maybe he didn’t have to be a Jedi. “Maybe I could be a trader like daddy!”

“Sure,” Armie smiled, “Just tell your parents you don’t want to be a Jedi.”

“But the Jedi are important. They protect peace in the galaxy,” Ben pointed out. Armie grimaced. 

“Is that what they told you?” 

Ben frowned. Something in Armie’s voice hinted that he was angry. Ben didn’t want Armie to be angry.

“Yes. The Jedi were good but then the Emperor killed almost all of them. And the Emperor was evil, so they had to be good. Why else would he kill them?”

“The Emperor wasn’t just evil, you know?” Armie said, “The Republic was bad too. The Core worlds had all the wealth, all the power, and people in the Outer Rim starved. It didn’t work in the end, but that’s why the First Order was founded.”

“The First Order?” 

“It’s a successor of the Empire, but better. It’s made of people from the Outer Rim. People who have been oppressed for far too long.”

Armie’s cheeks tinted pink as he grew excited. Ben watched him with fascination. He had never heard of the First Order, but something that wanted to be like the Empire didn’t seem like a good organisation. But Armie seemed so certain! Ben didn’t know what successor meant, but something with success in it had to be good, didn’t it?

“But the Republic is trying! My mum works very hard to make the world better,” Ben said. “She isn’t home very much because she has to work. She’s not evil.”

“Maybe your mum means well,” Armie shrugged, “if it’s your mum. But there are other people there.”

“But isn’t that what the Jedi did? Make sure the Senate didn’t do anything bad?”

“It is, but they failed.”

“I will be a good Jedi,” Ben professed, “I will make sure nobody has to hurt.”

“I’ll remember this when you’re a big bad Jedi,” Armie smirked.

“Hux! What are you doing? You should have been in the hangar five minutes ago!” a surly old man in uniform shouted. Armie flinched and cowered. Ben squeezed his hand. 

“I apologize, Sergeant!” Armie called. “Goodbye, Ben.”

“Armie,” Ben whispered, but the boy was already gone. Ben sat down onto the floor, crossed his legs and closed his eyes. He could still sense him, a bright orange glow in the sea of others. Armie wasn’t Force sensitive, but there was something about his mind that made him stand out in a crowd. Ben tried to send him his goodbyes but he wasn’t certain if Armie could hear him. He’d only ever tried with his parents, and Uncle Luke had explained that it worked better with people he knew well. 

_ It was nice to meet you!  _

Ben fancied he felt a flicker of excitement from Armie, but it was too faint to know for sure. He repeated his message over and over, and the responses grew louder. Armie heard him, Ben was sure of it! He couldn’t reply, but he heard him. A smile spread on Ben’s face. 

“Hey, kid, why are you sitting on the floor?” 

Ben was startled by his father’s gruff voice. He looked up, heart racing. 

“I made a new friend and I wanted to tell him that I’m happy,” he explained. He got up, eyeing the giant bag his father had over his shoulder. He wasn’t allowed to take a look at the things Han traded with, because they were dangerous and not for little children. Ben had argued that he wasn’t a little child but it didn’t do him any good. 

“Oh, that’s great,” his father smiled, “tell me about this friend of yours in the Falcon?”

“Okay,” Ben got up, taking Han’s hand. He kept glancing over his shoulder, looking for a glimpse of orange hair, but it seemed like Armie was long gone. Ben had a feeling it wasn’t the last time they’d see each other though. 

“That must have been quite someone when you don’t even want anything from that candy stand,” Han pointed out. Ben focused on the matter at hand, and indeed, just a few steps away from them there was a brightly coloured booth full of delicacies. 

“I do!” he protested.

“And do you think you’ve been good enough to deserve it?” 

“Yes!” said Ben, with the unwavering conviction of a child. 

“Well if you say so,” Han said, aiming for the booth. Ben had a very sweet tooth, and was very easily motivated by candy. He could be the best-behaved child if he so chose, and the prospect of sweets usually made him choose so. 

The owner smiled at Ben, as if he knew already just how much he liked candy. 

“Hello, young man,” they said, as if Han wasn’t even there. Ben’s eyes skimmed the colourful contents of the stand with adoration, “what will it be today?” 

Ben looked up at his father, testing the waters. There was an enormous lollipop right behind the vendor’s head, big enough to last him a whole month. It looked like the greatest thing ever produced but it was certainly expensive. Ben recalled the incident of two cycles ago involving him using the Force in an argument with another child. Perhaps not the biggest lollipop then. 

“Can I get this, please?” Ben asked his father, pointing to a snake made of gelatine. It was longer than his arms together, bright green, and had red eyes. 

Han nodded, and reached into his pocket to pay for it. Ben studied all the snakes on display to assess which was the biggest. The vendor took one and put it in a paper bag. Ben was certain he didn’t get the best one but he didn’t dare complain. He accepted it and thanked his father, pulling the head of the snake out of the bag to inspect it properly. 

It seemed even greener when light poured through it. Ben watched the tiny bubbles and bumps left in the gelatine. The imperfections of the candy made it all the more appealing, for a reason Ben couldn’t place. He was reluctant to eat it. 

Ben helped his father start the Falcon, feeling proud of himself. He wished Armie could see him – Ben was certain he would be impressed. He wondered whether Armie liked candy – he used to think that every child liked candy, but he also used to think every child was afraid of monsters when they slept alone. Or that every child had parents who loved them very much.

“So, tell me about your friend,” Han turned to him.    
“His name is Armie, and he has orange hair. Have you ever seen someone with orange hair?” Ben beamed, the candy snake in his hand momentarily forgotten. 

“Ginger,” Han corrected, “you don’t say orange about hair.”

“Like gingerbread?” Ben asked. He liked gingerbread. Mom made the best gingerbread, but only for Life Day. She said it was so that it would be precious to him, but Ben doubted he could ever find gingerbread anything but exciting. 

“Yes, like gingerbread.”

“Is his hair made of it?” Ben’s eyes widened at the prospect. Han laughed, the way he laughed when Ben said something an adult wouldn’t say. 

“Sadly, no.”

“Well at least nobody is going to eat it, that would be a shame” Ben pointed out. Han nodded. They fell silent for a while. 

“Armie said I don’t have to go to Jedi school if I don’t want to,” Ben said, quietly. He didn’t dare look at Han, opting instead to watch the lifeless eyes of his candy snake. 

It took a while for Han to answer, as if he wasn’t certain which reply to choose. “What did you tell him about it?” 

“Nothing much, just that Luke will run it,” Ben said, worried. There was something in his father’s voice which he disliked, like he’d done something wrong – yet he couldn’t recognize what. 

“And this kid, who is he?” Han asked further. Ben was positive he was in trouble now.

“He said he wanted to be an engin- to build things,” Ben explained. For some reason, it seemed better not to tell dad about the uniform Armie so proudly wore. Dad wouldn’t understand.

“Would you like to be an engineer too then?” Han asked.

“I don’t know,” Ben shrugged, “I just want to stay home with you. I don’t want to go to Uncle Luke’s.”

“You don’t need to worry about that now, Ben,” Han said, looking over at Ben with a funny expression, “you’re not going anywhere now.”

Ben nodded, swallowing the other questions burning his tongue. Those would be better suited for mom, he thought. He turned away from Han, watching the blurred lines of hyperspace through the viewport. The candy snake turned softer and more slippery in his warm palms, but he didn’t have the heart to eat it. He craddled it to his chest, wondering if he’d ever see Armie again.

***

Ben pressed his face between two golden railings of the balcony, trying to get a better view of his mother. Daddy had left on a mission Ben wasn’t allowed on, so he was supposed to be in the care of Threepio when mom was busy. However, he’d learnt long ago how to escape the droid without arousing suspicion. He’d used the same technique today to watch mom on her day at work. She kept promising to take him there but she never did. Ben supposed she was afraid he would embarrass her – as if he was a small child who didn’t know how to behave. 

He could see well from his vantage point up on the balcony, but the conversation was too muffled for him to hear. He made note of what everyone wore, came to the logical conclusion that his mother was the most beautiful woman in the whole world, and grew bored very quickly. There was only so much one could learn from watching people. 

Ben crept towards the staircase in the corner. His mother was very attentive, and seemed to be even more so when he did something he wasn’t supposed to. He sat down on the uppermost stair and slowly shuffled to the edge of it, then slipped onto the next one. He felt very serious about his mission, like a Rebel about to destroy a Death Star. 

Thinking of the Death Star reminded him of Armie, and he frowned, still sitting on the second to last step. Did Armie play games in which he was an Imperial soldier trying to stop the Rebel Alliance? Ben supposed that would make him and Armie enemies, and he didn’t want to be Armie’s enemy. This dilemma paralyzed him so much that he forgot his whereabouts until a familiar voice roused him.

“Ben, what are you doing here?” 

Mom’s expression was stern, the one she wore when she found Ben poking in the insides of a dead rat. She was holding a thin tall glass full of the sparkly drink Ben wasn’t allowed to try. (He tried anyway, once, and was very disappointed by the taste.) 

“Why was the Empire bad, mommy?” Ben asked, ignoring his mother’s question. 

“I told you already, darling,” Leia said, “and I’ll be happy to explain it again when I come back home, okay?”

“You always say that,” Ben protested, accusatory, “I want you to tell me  _ now.”  _

“You know I’m at work,” Leia said, her voice full of authority. It was usually enough to subdue Han or political opponents. It wasn’t enough for Ben though.

“I want to know! Armie said the Empire wasn’t all bad. Are you lying to me?” Ben was shouting now, and several of the people in the room were turning their heads in his direction. 

“It’s more complicated than that. I’m sure your friend feels that way, but he’s just a boy like you. He can’t know how it was.”

“But he does!” Ben screamed and stood up to run up the stairs. He could hear the swish of his mother’s clothes as she hurried after him, so he sped up. 

“Ben, wait!” 

Ben ran through the gallery and into the corridor that connected to the palace. He ran past half a dozen wooden doors and, feeling too fatigued to continue, he hid in an alcove created by a floor length window. Trying to catch his breath, he wiped the angry tears that pooled in the corners of his eyes. He sat down onto the ground, pulled his knees to his chest and hugged them, staring wistfully out of the window. He could see into the garden, kept meticulously orderly, with every flower at its designed spot to create fascinating patterns. There were constellations and symbols of the New Republic consisting entirely of flowers, but Ben’s favourite was always the park with the old, gnarled trees that together formed a canopy so dense that it was cool under the branches even in the worst summer heat. From his vantage point, he could see the fountain, programmed to begin a special performance every hour. The performance involved more intricate designs of the spurting water, but also colours and music. It was said that neither two were the same. Ben wondered if Armitage would enjoy it. 

He could hear the echoes of his mother’s sandals hitting the floor, but they were faint now, too far to pose any threat. It was sunny outside – it usually was. Ben didn’t like the sun very much. 

“Ben?” 

He looked away from the window. There was a woman standing above him, someone he didn’t recognize, yet something told him she was a friend. Still, he didn’t move, waiting for her to explain what she wanted from him.

“Can I sit down with you?” 

Ben nodded and pulled his legs even closer, as if there was enough space for both of them. She was tall, much taller than mom, and thin. She had very light hair, nearly see-through, and Ben could barely see her eyebrows. She sat down elegantly, light as a feather. Ben wondered if she was a fairy.

“My name is Emer, nice to meet you,” she said with a smile and offered him her hand. 

“I’m Ben,” he said, even though she already knew that, and took her hand, “nice to meet you too.”

“I heard you talk to your mother earlier,” Emer said, “about the Empire.”

“I know the Empire is bad!” Ben exclaimed, defensive.

“But there’s something troubling you, isn’t there?” She was still holding his hand, rubbing soothing circles into the skin on the back of it. Ben nodded.

“My friend, Armie, said the Empire wasn’t all bad. That the Republic was evil too, and the Jedi. Was he lying?”

“Where did you meet this boy?” Emer asked, the same way his father asked him if he ate anything when he was feeling sick. 

“In a port,” Ben explained, willing his brain to remember the name of it, “I was there with dad. I waited for him outside the shop.”

“And then you met Armie?”

“I bumped into him because I was looking for the ceiling.”

“What does he look like?”

“He has orange hair,” Ben blurted out, “and he’s very tall. A little skinny.”

Emer closed her eyes for a moment and pulled away. It seemed to Ben that she was going to cry, although that made no sense – grown-ups didn’t cry. Still, he reached forward and patted her forearm. 

She looked up and smiled at him, as if only now remembering that he was there. “I’m sorry, darling. But I think… I think you may have met my son.”

“When?” Ben frowned. 

“Armie. My son’s name is Armie, short for Armitage,” she said. 

“But you’re here. Why aren’t you with him?”

“His father took him away from me when he was a little boy,” Emer said, “not all fathers are like your dad.”

Ben contemplated it. 

“Armie said his parents were bad,” he said suddenly. She grimaced, like something hurt her. “Are you bad?”

“I don’t think he remembers me,” Emer said, “I had to leave when he was still a baby.”

“But how could you leave him when you knew his dad was bad?!” Ben exclaimed. 

“I had to save my life. I knew Brendol, his father, would give him the best education, while I had nothing to offer him. I did what was best for him.”

“But you knew they were bad!”

“I did,” Emer bowed her head, “and there’s not a day when I don’t feel guilty about leaving Armie with them.”

“But you can bring him back,” Ben said, “he doesn’t want to go to school. He told me.”

“Are you sure?” 

Ben wasn’t. He knew that Armie was unhappy with his parents. And he wanted to see Armie again. If Emer brought him back, they could be real friends! 

“Yes.” He nodded to stress his point. “He goes to the Arkanis Academy. He told me.”

“I knew he would.” 

“Why would he say that the Empire is not bad?” Ben asked after a moment of silence. 

“The children of the Empire are told a different bedtime story than you are,” Emer said, “and he believes it. Do you believe the stories your parents tell you?” 

Ben nodded. 

“Well, and Armie believes his.”

“But what is the truth?” 

“The hardest thing you learn as an adult is that there is not just one truth,” Emer said, “That everyone has their own truth.”

“But how?” 

“Because we all have our bedtime stories,” Emer smiled. 

***

Eleven years old, Ben didn’t find the spaceport as fascinating as he did when he was five. The ceiling was still reflecting the sky outside, but he could see the technology behind it. There were still many people around, but he didn’t enjoy the crowds as much as he did as a child. And, above all, he didn’t meet a new friend who’d change his world views. 

It seemed to him like a feverish dream now, a hazy memory blurred and twisted by time. At times, he questioned if Armie had even been real – it happened, he’d heard, to lonely boys sometimes. They’d have a friend no one else could see, because they so desperately wanted not to be alone that their minds made up a whole person. Ben supposed his being Force sensitive could have made that possible, and even more so than in other children. Still, he ardently refused to believe that. If Armie was just a mirage, a figment of his imagination, why had he never seen him since? 

And then there was Emer, the even more ephemeral recollection that just wouldn’t go away. Her words haunted him possibly even more than Armie himself – he could never seen the world as the same place after she told him about the volatile nature of truth. He’d questioned his parents relentlessly about it, and then other people when they allowed it, and then he read books that were considered too complex and too complicated for a child. 

He’d learnt much about history, about politics – how in politics, there hardly ever was any truth at all, and how it didn’t matter at all what the truth was. It soured his views of the world, and he’d become closed off. But more importantly, it allowed him to see that there wasn’t a set path for him in the universe. As he had told Armie, it never occurred to him that he may choose a different part in life than that of a student in Luke’s academy, and later, a Jedi. That was a fundamental truth of his life, just like his name or his body. But it wasn’t anymore. Only children lived in the dichotomy of truth and lie, and allowed it to dictate their lives. Ben was not a child anymore. 

Ben scanned the crowd around him for the last time, searching for a glimpse of orange, and then turned to help his father with the crates they were selling. He knew, too, that whatever was in the crates wasn’t exactly permitted to be sold. He hadn’t confronted his father about the nature of his job, waiting instead for when he was deemed ready for such an information. They didn’t tell him their truth, so why should he bother revealing his own?

***

Ben was enjoying his lunch, feet up on the dashboard, when his work comm beeped. He didn’t bother putting the food down to read it – the vast majority of jobs could wait until after lunch, and was not worth interrupting his meal over. His playlist got to the end and jumped back to the first song, reminding him he’d been taking his break for far too long. There was always so much to do, even between jobs. Han had always made it look effortless, like it was a summer job of travelling across the galaxy and discovering new places, but actually running a business was something else. 

Ben sighed and wolfed down the rest of his lunch. He reached for his comm, intending to deal with the most recent message first. His eyes widened when he read the preview. Someone was offering him a job worth ten times as much as he usually got. He sat down properly, straightening his back, as if the mysterious contractor was watching him and would take the offer back if they saw him lounging around like he was. 

_ Dear Mr Ren, _

_ I am turning to you on behalf of the First Order. It is known to us that you are highly skilled and quite someone in the shipping business, and that you do not back down from a challenge. That sounds like exactly the kind of person we might need.  _

_ I am certain you realise how delicate our position is, and that our collaboration must be kept in secret. I trust the reward offered to you for this commission is proof enough of how important this operation is to us.  _

_ If you desire to learn more about my offer, respond to this message within two cycles.  _

_ Yours faithfully, _

_ Gen. S. T. Auron _

Ben, after reading it three times, gaped at the text in front of him, fully expecting it to disappear. There were desperate commissioners, and then there was this. The credits offered for it, as well as the flattery and appealing to his ego, showed Ben someone who was aware that what they needed done was dangerous, and were most likely turned down by people before they asked him. 

Ben considered it. He had two days to decide – if he took it, he could take several months off and buy a better ship, and he’d still have enough money to give his father another loan which he didn’t really expect to be repaid. That on itself was probably enough of a reason not to take it. 

Ben decided to clean his mind before making a decision, so he changed into his running clothes and set out. Soft breeze caressed him as he ran, and he got lost in a fantasy of a holiday by a beach he’d take, waiting for the sun to dry his skin after a good swim. He hadn’t taken time off in ages, and while it had been for a good reason, he may have overdone it. Not being idle wasn’t the same as overworking himself, just like taking a holiday wasn’t being lazy. He met several people on his route, feeling like some of them were familiar, as if he’d seen them before. He’d been here for a long time then, at the same place. He should move. 

Before he reached his ship again, the decision was almost made for him. Ben was self-aware enough not to lie to himself, pretending his pride wasn’t the main component of his desire to go, but there were other things too. Plus, it couldn’t be that hard, right? For the majority of the time, he was going into First Order territory, working for the First Order. They wouldn’t shoot at him if that were the case, would they?

Or maybe not. Either way, he could not make an informed decision before he knew more about the operation. Ben viewed the message again and tapped “reply.”

_ General, _

_ I would like to learn more of the mission you offer, but I don’t promise anything just yet. I am available via holocall whenever it is of convenience to you.  _

_ Kylo Ren _

He’d barely sent the message when the call came. 

“Wow, you really are desperate,” he mumbled before answering the call.

“Mr Ren, thank you for such a swift response.”

“Well you did make your offer sound extremely interesting,” Ben shrugged, “plus your urgency adds up really nicely to the picture.”

“You asked for more details of the operation, so please listen carefully. I suppose I don’t have to remind you to keep our conversation secret.”

“You don’t,” Ben said. As if he would talk to anyone about something so lucrative.

“You will be tasked to escort a small fleet of ships, brand new, better than any before, extremely valuable. As they are, we cannot transport them ourselves, because they’re located in a neutral space and we are a military organisation. We could take them by force of course, but that would compromise us and put us in unnecessary danger of trouble. That’s why we need an ally to pick the ships up for us.”

“So the ships are just there, waiting, and they’re yours but you can’t go pick them up,” Ben repeated. There was something obviously fishy about it – nobody had ships they didn’t have access to, that was ridiculous. If they bought those ships, they’d be given permission to pick them up, military or no military. General Auron was trying to see just how much he could lie to Ben and lower the price.

“Yes, that is mostly correct,” Auron agreed.

“Mostly? What is completely correct then?” Ben asked. “You don’t expect me to believe anyone who’d sell you brand new military ships would make a fuss about you coming to pick them up, do you? Don’t insult my intelligence, General.”

There was a momentary pause on the other end; Auron was probably pondering the pros and cons of employing someone smart and daring enough to challenge his faulty logic. 

“We may have acquired the ships in an unconventional fashion,” Auron admitted. Ben snickered. 

“So essentially you robbed a house but forgot the loot on the porch and you need someone to go get it for you.”

“I’d prefer to avoid the word steal, for the record, so I disagree with your terminology, but your allegory is quite fitting.”

“Where are these ships then?” Ben asked, “and why do you say that the ships are yours when they’re in enemy space and you haven’t paid for them to claim them as something you purchased?”

“They were designed by and constructed under the supervision of Armitage Hux, a rather brilliant renegade engineer. He’d received education in First Order Academy as a child, then disappeared for years until he resurfaced as a ship developer, claiming to desire to stay neutral in the struggle between the First Order and the New Republic. Which is why he refuses to sell us more ships than he deems necessary. I hope you understand why we believe we have a right to the ships.”

Armitage Hux. Ben’s head was swimming, and he barely heard what Auron said after the name. Armitage Hux, a brilliant engineer who fled the First Order. Ben didn’t think of Armie anymore – he could barely remember what he looked like – but the memory rushed back. The hope that he’d see him again after talking to Emer, the realization that it wasn’t going to happen, the hoping despite all evidence. 

“I don’t care if you have a right to steal from someone, I’m not a judge. I’m a smuggler. I’ll take the job, under certain conditions,” Ben said. His heart was still beating just a breath too fast, but he was quickly getting back into familiar territory. “First, you’ll provide me with complete information you have about the place. If the guy is as smart as you make him sound, he won’t make it easy for me. I’m sure I’ll encounter unexpected safety measures, but I want to know about as many of them as possible. Second, you’ll give me all you have on Hux. Birth certificate, school reports, family photos if you have them. Third, you’ll let me study the ships before I hand them over. And fourth, you’ll send me a third of the reward right away. I might need funding, and at least this way you’re more likely to really send me all the information you have to allow me to succeed.”

“You ask for a lot, Mr Ren,” Auron pointed out.

“Well, so do you, don’t you, General?” 

“I really want those ships. We’ll send you the files and the money. I hope your confidence is warranted.”

“I should hope so. Otherwise I’d make a fool of myself, and I’m sure the First Order does not work with fools,” Ben said. 

“I’m glad we understand each other. Good day, Mr Ren.”

“A long one, General.”

The call ended. Ben sat in his pilot chair, still not quite comprehending what had just transpired. Asking for information on Hux was foolish – he hardly knew if it was the right Armitage, perhaps the name was common in the First Order. And even if it was… It had been twenty years since they met. People change when they grow up; he knew he’d changed since that encounter all those years ago. Maybe they could have been friends then but would hate each other now. Maybe Armitage wasn’t as wonderful as Ben’s loneliness had made him up to be, and Ben was afraid of being confronted with reality. He’d grown up with the image of Armitage as someone perfect who’d solve all of Kylo’s insecurities and fears. And although he didn’t need the crutch of an imaginary friend anymore, he still wasn’t sure he was ready for such a clash with reality. 

It didn’t matter. He’d decided to take the job before he’d learnt about Armitage. He’d made an informed decision based on the ratio between risk and possible gain, and he needed something big to take a break. Armitage had nothing to do with it. It was just a job. 

His comm beeped several times as the files provided by the General arrived. He made himself a cup of caf and sat down, the datapad on his lap. He patted himself on the back for not opening the file titled ‘Hux, A. B.’ first, and settled down with the schematics of the station. Soon after, he was too caught up with committing the layout to his memory to think of Armitage anymore.

***

Ben’s knee kept hitting the underside of his dashboard, yet he barely registered the twitch. He’d deployed the virus into the station’s system, now he had to wait. He almost felt sorry for the guy he used for it – he seemed like a nice guy, a little shy, a little desperate. Ben was almost certain this would be his first time watching porn, and on a work computer, downloading a virus that would get his boss robbed of quite a lot of money. Nothing else he could do though, and this boy, MItaka, was all too easy to manipulate, even with Ben’s rusty Force powers. 

His thoughts travelled back to Armitage. It was no doubt that Armitage B. Hux, a promising bright child who’d disappeared from the Academy at the age of seven and had not been heard of until nearly twenty years later, was Armie, the boy who quite literally changed Ben’s life. What would become of him if he hadn’t met Armie? Would he have been a Jedi or was that wish of his mother’s just a dream that was always doomed to failure? Ben couldn’t say that he was exactly happy, but he never regretted saying no to Luke’s offer. 

The bar on his screen, monitoring the progress of the virus through the station’s system, filled painfully slowly. Ben picked up a book, an old one his father had recommended him, but he couldn’t focus on it. The words made sense separately but not together. Still, he kept staring at the pages, stubborn in his resolve not to let this mission get under his skin. He had no problem reading before other missions, but this was something else. He told himself he was nervous because of the magnitude of his task – he’d never taken a commission with so much at stake. It made no difference though; he couldn’t deny that he was nervous because somewhere in the system, there was a genius who’d grown up to be more handsome than anyone deserved to be, a genius Ben desperately yearned to impress. 

Giving up on trying to distract his buzzing mind, Ben set out to do something he never quite had the time for – clean out the storage unit from the dirt and whatever debris remained after all the things he’d kept there. Scenarios of meeting Armitage played out in his mind, one more bizarre than the other, and yet he couldn’t help it. His plan was to sneak away without Armitage even noticing he was in the system, but he supposed one could dream. He made sure to stop his thoughts from running too wild after the fantasy inevitably got to the point in which they’d passionately make out – pleasant as they were, he couldn’t afford to endanger the mission because he couldn’t keep it in his pants. 

The computer informed Ben when the virus had infected the system by 99 percent, and he sat down in the cockpit again, staring at the screen for what felt like eternity, until it turned into what Ben hoped was an identical copy of Mitaka’s screen. The layout was unfamiliar but comprehensible, intuitive even. It didn’t take Ben long to figure out how to get into the section for monitoring the movement of the ships in the system. He glanced at the chrono – Mitaka was just getting to the good parts of that porn, if Ben remembered correctly. He hoped the guy would at least have a good and fruitful wank as a compensation for his troubles. 

He scheduled his little fleet to jump away in thirty minutes. That should give him enough time to connect them to the system of his own ship and synchronize their computers, but not make him seem to be in a haste. 

Hacking the ship computers should have been easier with the information and codes he had from the First Order, but unlike the station, there weren’t weak spots in their security measures. The ships were straight out of the factory, and were currently unmanned. Ben supposed Armitage was waiting for the right buyer, and therefore kept them running at the lowest energy consumption possible to keep them afloat. With no crewmen to distract, Ben had to break through the ship’s own basic personality. Fortunately, Armitage didn’t seem to expect to have his ships taken away, so the system turned out to have less layers to break through than Ben feared. Before his thirty minutes ticked away, he was commanding a small fleet. It was even more difficult now not to get distracted. He was very close to his goal, and nothing had gone sideways yet. That didn’t feel very reassuring. Ben didn’t realise he was gnawing on his lower lip until he tasted blood. 

A minute before his scheduled departure, Ben made sure his cloaking device was intact, ran a quick test to see if there were any recognizable trackers on the ships, and made sure there were no traces of the hijacked operation system in his computer. Then, the numbers on the chrono finally changed again. 

Ben jumped to lightspeed. 

For a moment, he feared he’d left the fleet behind – that their systems didn’t connect, or there was some sort of brake on them that he hadn’t noticed. His heart pushed blood into his body with too much force, and his chest almost hurt. Then, he saw the ships around him, and relaxed a little. He hadn’t won, not until he has the money in his account, but he was on his way. 

***

Ben decided to use some of the time off to visit his family. It wasn’t easy, not with his mother being the sovereign ruler of the galaxy in every way but title and his father trying not to get himself killed on increasingly dangerous missions, as if the older he got, the more he had to prove he was still a good smuggler. Lando was much easier to get a hold of, and Ben spent a week with him and his slightly terrifying partner Rael. Ben wasn’t sure what exactly made Rael so unsettling, mostly because there wasn’t anything that  _ wasn’t  _ unsettling about them, but Lando seemed happy, and Ben was lonely enough to respect that. 

Han dropped by then, and Ben couldn’t help but notice Rael’s eyes on his father. He sneaked a little camera into Han’s room, just to be safe, and he came to deeply regret upon the first night when it turned out that if Rael was jealous of Han, he had a very good reason for it. Ben tried not to mingle further, hoping his father would be able to talk himself out of this too should the necessity arise. 

Leia arrived just before Ben was about to leave. He was happy to see her, but within two hours in her company he was reminded why he preferred to spend time with Han. Ben admired her greatly, but he was also, for the lack of a better word, afraid of her. She never quite got over Ben choosing his father’s life, believing he could have done better, and she never failed to remind him. Although he was certain he’d made the right decision, her comments always made him feel ashamed, and then angry, because in over ten years he still hadn’t learnt to defend himself. 

There was palpable tension between Han and Leia, who ostentatiously wore an intricate pink necklace she’d got from Amilyn Holdo. Lando seemed amused by the situation, while Ben wondered which disaster Leia had to save Han from this time. Overall, it was an exhausting trip and Ben was glad when it ended. 

He treated himself to a holiday on a planet that didn’t host intelligent life, running from the oppressive, terrifying feelings that this was the only alternative to not spending the entirety of his life alone. He loved his parents, but they were a messy bunch and not an exactly reassuring example. The second he got back to his ship, he connected to the holonet and searched it until he found a job. He’d save the money for later. 

***

When his ship didn’t start on the first try, Ben didn’t think anything of it. On the second try, he frowned, and checked if he’d performed all the preparations. On the third, he swore and got out of the cockpit to check on the engine. 

He emerged an hour later, confused and worried. His ship wasn’t old enough to be malfunctioning without a cause; he’d paid quite a lot of money for it, and introduced some of his or his father’s improvements to it. If anything, she was just growing to be at her full strength. 

“You shouldn’t leave your ship so unprotected.”

Ben jerked, his heart skipping. Someone was in his ship, what could–

“Hux?” Ben yelped, instantly chastising himself for acting like an idiot. Yet there he was, in flesh, more intimidating in his casualness than any photo could make him be. 

“So you  _ do  _ know who you stole from,” Armitage said, his voice an odd mix of the accent Ben remembered and something less exotic. 

“Technically, the First Order stole it. They hacked your ships and stole the access codes and passwords, so that all I had to do was figure out a way to take them away,” Ben explained. It was a weak and lame excuse, but he didn’t have anything to apologise for. It was a job. “Maybe you should improve your security system.”

“Unfortunately, I don’t think that’s possible at the moment. Certainly not before I figure out how to keep the whole station fully automatic,” Armitage sighed.

“I guess you did figure out how I got in then?” Ben asked. His curiosity – and pride – didn’t allow him to let it go so easily.

“Yes. I must say it was very clever in its mundanity. I never would have thought of it.”

“Thank you. I should compliment you on those ships then, they’re truly magnificent,” Ben requited.

“I know. I noticed you took some of my inventions and implemented them to your own ship. That’s how I stopped your engine from running just now,” Armitage said, “you really shouldn’t put things you steal into your own ship.”

“Well what can I say? I’m a smuggler, I have to make do with what I find,” Ben shrugged. 

“Yes, I suppose you’re right,” Armitage nodded, “I take it you chose your father’s career path, rather than your uncle’s?”

“So you do remember me!” 

“How could I not,” Armitage smiled with one corner of his mouth. Ben grinned, feeling the tips of his ears fill with blood. That had certainly been his big fear – that Hux wouldn’t remember their fateful meeting, or that he’d think Ben was a fool. 

“How did you find me then?” Ben asked. 

“It wasn’t easy, that’s for sure. I found that my ships had been smuggled to the First Order. I knew they couldn’t have done it themselves, it’s not their style. So I knew they had to have hired someone. From then on, it was just a matter of filtering who could have been smart enough to do it. I knew it was you the second someone told me about you.”

“Careful, you’re making it sound like we were meant to cross paths again,” Ben teased. A playful smile turned Armitage into the most adorable person Ben had ever met.

“Maybe we were,” Armitage mused, “how about I go on this mission with you and we find out?” 

Ben didn’t go on missions with other people, not since he was old enough in his father’s eyes. People at work were distractions, even if they didn’t look like Armitage Hux. But this was a small mission, and he’d wanted to spend more time with Armitage since he was five. He supposed he could make an exception. 

“Okay. But you’ll cook.”

“Do you always make your guests do housework for you?” 

“Only when they invite themselves,” Ben grinned, “and hurt my ship.” 

“You act like I damaged it,” Hux rolled his eyes, “I simply inactivated it. It’s a very smart device, but I suppose you only discovered its effects on smoothing take off and landing. It works as a safety brake of sorts. Unfortunately you can’t set it off from distance, which is why you were able to steal my ships. I’m working on that.”

“Oh, that’s amazing,” Ben blurted out. Hux grinned. 

“Well thank you. If you’re good, maybe I’ll show you how to use it.”

Hux tapped on his datapad a few times – Ben couldn’t see what exactly Hux did, despite his eyes nearly popping out from the sockets from peering – and the engine began to purr beneath their feet. 

“Did you put other brakes on or can I take off?” Ben asked. Hux nodded. 

“No other brakes,” he added, and Ben tried not to think about which other systems Hux could have invaded. Maybe he was just teasing Ben. Ben sat down in his chair and initiated the take off sequence as discreetly as he could, still expecting Hux to start laughing at him when the dashboard got fried or exploded in his face. It didn’t, and Ben guided the ship out of the hangar. Hux watched him from the side, an incompressible smile on his face. 

“Could you not watch me like that?” Ben muttered. 

“Like what?”

“Like there’s bird shit on my head and you’re waiting for me to notice.”

“Maybe there is,” Hux shrugged. Ben balled his hand into a fist to stop himself from checking his hair. There were no birds around. Hux was just trying to exasperate him. Ben was determined not to let him. 

“Besides, you don’t have a co-pilot’s chair, so I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do with my body in this situation.”

“Ah, right. Well I warned you that I’m not used to visitors,” Ben said. “We’ll jump to hyperspace soon, I’ll give you my full attention then.” 

“Your full attention? That sounds serious.” 

Ben hadn’t met anyone as quick-witted as Armitage in a long time. His mother was the reigning champion in the informal competition, but Ben felt that at the end of this trip, the lead might go to Hux. Whenever that will be, that is. 

Ben waited until the stars around them blurred into the thin lines of hyperspace before turning to Armitage. Hux was studying the decoration on the walls, obviously taken by it. Ben had painted it himself, on long missions when he needed to stretch at least a little and to kill time. Every free smooth surface would be covered in paint when Ben is done with it, but that might take a while. He deliberately made it small and detailed to make it last as long as possible – he wouldn’t buy a new ship just because he ran out of space. 

“This is nice. Your work?” Hux said when he noticed Ben behind him. 

“Yeah,” Ben nodded, “thanks. I just doodle, it’s nothing special.” 

“It’s very good,” Hux protested. Ben felt the tips of his ears turn red. He tucked a strand of hair behind the right one. “Maybe you could help me with designing my ships. I always struggle with the aesthetics of them.”

“Your ships are beautiful,” Ben blurted out. “I love the modified TIE.”

“Oh, what is that, the prodigal son of the Rebel Alliance has a thing for Imperial weaponry?” Hux chuckled. 

“Shut up, TIEs are beautiful. Everyone loves TIEs.”

“You’re so predictable, flyboy.”

Hux patted Ben’s shoulder with the jest. Ben looked at him, startled – he wasn’t used to physical contact, not on his lonely missions – and their eyes met. Hux turned away and took his hand off of Ben. Ben wished he hadn’t, and he knew it was partially his fault that Hux did. He tried to think of something to say while Hux pretended to study the decor on the wall. 

“I, uh, I guess you don’t want me to take you around the ship, huh?” Ben asked nervously. He wanted to slap himself – how old was he to talk like that? 

“I do,” Hux turned back, “why wouldn’t I?”

“I kinda thought you’d already seen everything when you stranded my ship in that port,” Ben shrugged.

“Only briefly. Besides, I couldn’t figure out the use of some of the things you have here – your inventions?” 

“And my dad’s,” Ben was flattered that Hux seemed to be impressed with his inventions. He had to remember his manners now – his mother always taught him that he shouldn’t show off. If his achievement was worth showing off, others would notice it. It was easier said than done though. “Although I’m pretty sure my dad stole at least some of them.”

“It runs in the family, huh?” 

Ben shrugged. “I suppose I deserved that.”

“Come on, let me see your ship. Also please tell me where we’re going. I acted on an impulse, which I almost never do, and not knowing where I’m flying and if anyone will try to kill me when I get there is, frankly, terrifying.” 

Ben laughed. The corners of Hux’s mouth rose, but only a little, as if he tried to stop himself from smiling and failed. 

“Why should I tell you that?” Ben asked. 

“Because you can’t stand to see me suffer in so much anguish,” Hux tried. Kylo pretended to be thinking about it. 

“I am a smuggler. I steal things, I transport contraband, I kidnap people and sometimes I kill them for a living. What makes you think I care about your anguish?” 

For a second, Ben feared he’d overdone it. He’d always had a little too dry sense of humour, based on devaluing others – or sometimes himself – and most people didn’t really find it funny. 

“Oh please,” Hux rolled his eyes, and Ben sighed with relief, “you must be a lousy smuggler if you think I’m going to believe you.”

“Most people are too afraid of me to question my words,” Ben shrugged.

“I can’t see why,” Hux said.

“Must be the hair.”

Hux chuckled, hiding his mouth with his hand. Ben frowned. There was something peculiar about the way Armitage stopped himself from laughing. Peculiar and sad. 

“We’re going to Naboo,” Ben replied, choosing not to pry in Hux’s privacy, “the business I have there is technically legal, so you don’t have to worry.”

“What does that even mean?”

“I’m not smuggling something illegal, like drugs. But there are really high import taxes on blasters there, and I’m going to sneak them past the patrols and sell them for a much lower price that they would be legally attainable, but still for a lot more than what I paid for them on Corellia,” Ben explained. 

“So that’s what smugglers do, huh,” Armitage mused, “I thought it was more exciting, you know. Deadly shootouts, high stakes sabacc, flirting with your enemies to get whatever you want.”

“You watch holoshows too much,” Ben shrugged, “most of the time, I just sit here in my ship, travelling across the galaxy. Then I do these little jobs that are even less exciting than honest work. But then, every now and then, you stumble upon an exciting opportunity, like stealing a fleet worth of the best ships in the galaxy.”

“Aww, you’re a flatterer,” Armitage cooed, but Ben could see he was touched. Poor soul. He probably knew his ships were of the best quality, but it must have been something else to hear it from another person. 

“Well I never got to flirt with my enemy, did I?” Ben mumbled. Too fast, too quietly. Hux raised an eyebrow. 

“You’re really adorable. Now let me see this ship of yours.”

Ben felt the blush creeping into his cheeks, so he looked down, on the off chance that Hux hadn’t seen it. He must have misjudged him then – most likely, Armitage saw him as the amusing little boy with missing teeth he’d met in the port. 

“Let’s start with the engine,” Ben suggested. Hux nodded, following him to the belly of the ship. The space was small and overheated, and it felt even more so with Hux there. They brushed against each other a lot, and Ben found it difficult to focus on Hux’s questions. 

It was obvious that Hux’s knowledge of ships came from a very different place than Ben’s own. Hux had a formal technical vocabulary that Ben lacked, but couldn’t comprehend Ben’s more colloquial expressions. He seemed puzzled by the most mundane things, and the more they argued about proper names for components, the more his accent pushed through. Upon discovering this, Ben kept using increasingly obscure words just to hear more of the perfect, weirdly arousing melody of his voice. 

“I’m quite sure you’re just making these words up,” Hux grumbled at last. 

“I’m not,” Ben grinned, “although I admit they are not exactly standard.”

“Are you trying to make me look dumb, or are you just a show-off?” 

“Those are mutually exclusive?” 

Hux shook his head, exasperated. Ben grinned. 

“Now that we established that, could you please stick to Basic?” 

“I guess. Please keep your accent though!” 

Hux raised an eyebrow. “You know, for someone of your origin, you sure have a thing for Imperial things.” 

“Guilty,” Ben shrugged. 

“Well, the accent and the ships were about the only good things. Maybe the uniforms, aesthetically speaking, though they were painful to wear,” Armitage said. Ben could hear the bitterness in his voice. This sounded like it might be a very interesting conversation, although probably not one done in the engine room. Still, he couldn’t quite quench his curiosity. That was a radical truth from Armie’s ardent defence of the Empire.

“What made you leave? The First Order General was rather butthurt about it.”

“My mother kidnapped me from the Academy. Said she thought I was dead but that she came for me immediately when she find out I wasn’t, although I never knew how that happened. It was all a lot less dramatic than it sounds, I must say,” Hux said when Ben’s eyes widened. 

“It was me,” Ben mumbled, “I told her about you. I hoped she’d bring you back, to the Republic, I mean. But she didn’t.”

“You knew my mother?”

“I spoke to her only that one time. She never came back for more chit chat,” Ben said, and it sounded bitterer than he’d planned. 

“We were hiding the whole time. Travelling from planet to planet. I must have gone to at least twenty schools. She claimed she never wanted to be parted from me again. It was suffocating, but it helped me survive.”

“But you don’t hide anymore,” Ben observed, to invite Hux to keep talking. 

“I don’t have to. They need me,” Hux chuckled, but it was a cold, mirthless laugh. Ben wondered if this was the only way Hux could laugh – it seemed as if there was something stopping him from laughing earnestly. 

“Did you become the best shipmaker in the galaxy just so you wouldn’t have to hide?” Ben asked. The engine was whirring around them, and Hux wasn’t answering for so long that Ben thought he hadn’t heard him. 

“It sounds rather sad when you put it that way, doesn’t it?” Hux replied finally.

“It sounds like something a very strong person would do,” Ben countered, “Also it sounds like a proof that spite is the best motivator.”

Hux smiled and squeezed Ben’s shoulder for a brief moment. Ben wanted to ask what happened to Hux’s mother, but it seemed like Hux had done enough opening up that day.

“Now that we discussed my tragic backstory, will you finally explain this thing, in Basic this time?” Hux asked. 

“I call it the penetrator,” Ben grinned, and wondered how it was possible that Armitage looked so adorable even sweaty and rolling his eyes.

***

“Who’s your new accessory, Kylo?” Leen asked, wrapping her arm around Ben’s waist. Her eyes were very obviously following Armitage to the bathroom. Ben snorted as if to show her how delusional she was, but he knew he didn’t sound that convincing. 

“He’s not my accessory. He’s a guy whose ships I stole, even though they were technically already stolen,” Ben explained. Leen raised one immaculate bushy eyebrow. It had a very dark shade of blue and contrasted nicely with her pale yellow irises. Ben was glad she decided to get rid of the electric pink she wore when he last saw her. 

“Oh, the Force must have been very desperate with you to push you into such a lucky deal,” Leen chuckled, “he’s a snack, not gonna lie. If he wasn’t yours, I’d try something with him, but since I’m such a good friend, I’ll find a different bed warmer tonight.”

“I’m not desperate and we’re not sleeping together,” Ben rolled his eyes, “this might be surprising to you, but some people have other things on their minds than just sex.”

“That may be true, but I know there’s something between the two of you. Or at least you wish there was.”

Ben had no answer to that and Leen had enough decency not to tease him for it. Ben was a little surprised by that, considering how relentless she was in teasing others. She was still holding onto him when Hux emerged out of the bathroom a moment later. Ben could swear he saw him flinch, but the moment was so brief he didn’t dare look too much into it. There was a polite, expressionless smile on his face when he reached Ben and Leen, and Ben didn’t need to feel the Force to know there was something bothering him.

“Hi, I’m Leen!” Leen chirruped and offered a hand to Hux. He shook it, trying to pretend that he wasn’t staring at rest of her arms. “Ben’s been talking my ear off about you!”

Ben inhaled to protest but Leen’s sharp nails dug into his side and silenced him. Hux’s eyes widened a little and his perfectly stoic mask slipped for a moment. 

“Whatever he told you, he was probably exaggerating,” he dismissed it, “we met when he was an impressionable child.”

“He didn’t tell me that, the rascal!” Leen exclaimed. Hux’s mouth twitched but he didn’t smile, not quite. 

“It’s true. He’s been searching for me for twenty years,” he went on, “I must say he’s grown up quite nicely. He was a very awkward child.”

“I stopped looking for you when I was twelve, don’t flatter yourself,” Ben interjected. 

“You changed your career path because of me.”

“I did it because it was the best option.”

“Ah, it’s getting hot in here,” Leen whistled, “I’ll leave you guys to it, wouldn’t want to be a third wheel. It was nice meeting you, Merky.”

She danced away before Ben could stop her. Armitage was staring after her. 

“What did she call me?” he asked. Ben sat down on a sofa nearby, to get out of the way of the dancers. Armitage sat down by his side, just a breath too close.

“I don’t know. Sometimes she uses words nobody else does. Either they’re from her native language or she makes them up, I haven’t quite figured that out yet.”

“She seems nice. Have you known her for a long time?” 

“A couple of years. My father introduced me to her. I think he was hoping she’d… well.” He trailed off. He didn’t want to get into details with why exactly he and Leen met under most suspicious circumstances, but he felt Armitage understood.

“I take it she’s not one of our customers then,” Hux said.

“No, she’s a competition, if anything. Although weapons were never quite her thing. They’re not very pleasurable,” Ben shrugged. They looked after her, but she was already engaged elsewhere, dancing way too close to a young Twi’lek woman. 

“I beg to differ,” Hux said, his hand absent-mindedly checking the now empty holster on his left hip. 

“Not physically pleasurable at least. Let’s focus on the customers though. We’re slower than I usually am,” Ben pointed out.

“Are you saying I’m slowing you down?” 

Ben was almost sure Armitage was flirting with him. Not quite, but he’d had enough drinks to be bold enough to play along.

“I’m saying you’re distracting me. I keep looking for you in the crowd and talking to you, and I can’t exactly deploy my charms onto others when they see us together,” he explained. He cursed the terrible lighting in the room stopping him from seeing Armie’s reaction properly. This way, he could only imagine the blush on his cheeks. 

“Is this mission time sensitive?” Hux asked.

“Not really,” Ben shook his head, “I made so much money with the last job that I don’t really have to do anything for months, strictly speaking.”

“Stay with me then,” Hux said, “this city is beautiful and I’d love to visit the mountains we saw when we flew here. And we still haven’t caught up about what happened since we last met.” 

Ben fancied he felt Armie’s fingers brush against his thigh but he couldn’t be sure. 

“I’d love that,” he said and placed his hand where Armie’s would be if it did indeed linger on top of his leg. He was greeted by a cool slender hand with long fingers that laced with his own, tentative. Ben didn’t dare raise his eyes, the tabletop in front of him suddenly terribly interesting. The pad of Armie’s thumb rubbed small circles into the back of his hand. They remained like that, afraid of each other for a long time. Ben stole several glances in Armie’s direction and with the last one, Hux caught him. They chuckled awkwardly. Ben’s hand was clammy in Armie’s – or was Armie’s hand clammy in his? 

“Would you like to dance?” Armie asked at last. Ben nodded eagerly. They stood up and made their way to the dancefloor, still hand in hand, as if they’d get lost if they let go of each other. 

Ben liked this club because it didn’t play the regular club music – loud, awful, making you feel like the drummer sat inside your skull and used your brain for instrument. It was a pleasant tune, the volume ideal to listen to it if you wanted to but easy to ignore if you wanted to talk. It was perfect for business. 

It wasn’t so perfect for dancing if you didn’t know how to dance. In a typical club, you could just jump up and down and toss your limbs more or less in tune with the music. This kind of music required actual dancing skills, which Ben certainly didn’t possess. Armie smiled at him and stopped so close to Ben it was difficult not to stare at his lips.

“I’ll lead you,” Hux whispered, and the words echoed in Ben’s mind. He allowed Armie to position his arms and tried his best not to show how affected he was by their proximity. “I’ll start slower, just follow me.”

Ben was, as it turned out, bad at following a lead. Hux had obviously learned his moves from a professional, in a school perhaps, and it showed – they were rather set, with little room for changes. They were too predictable, and soon Ben repeated them without passion, moving like an old droid that needed oiling. 

“Let me,” he told Armie when he yet again took a step too early. 

“You’re the worst pupil I’ve ever had,” Hux complained.

“How many have you had?” Ben asked, spinning them into an unexpected pirouette. Armitage was surprised by it and he would have fallen down if Ben didn’t catch him. But he did, stopping Hux from dancing away. 

“Just you,” Hux admitted when he caught his balance, leaning back against Ben’s forearm. Ben got an idea from that and dipped him down. Armitage let his arms fall and his spine was so flexible that his hair brushed the floor. His shirt rolled up and Ben saw a flash of flat stomach. He helped Armie back up onto his feet and they did a few repetitions from the routine Armie had shown him before he moved his arm down Hux’s back, making him lean backwards again. Armitage laughed when he straightened and Ben spun him around. 

“Then I’m also your best student, aren’t I?” Ben asked. Armitage held closer onto Ben, probably to steady himself after all that spinning. 

“You’re definitely the cockiest one,” he replied when he caught his breath. 

“Oh am I?” Ben murmured into his ear and pressed their bodies together. They were just swaying on the spot at this point; Armie’s breath was cool on Ben’s sweat-damp neck. 

Armie linked his arms behind Ben’s neck to ease their awkward position, and Ben nearly forgot to breathe. He laid both of his hands on Armie’s waist, but that was too high to be comfortable and they gradually slipped lower. 

The song changed, turning into something very slow and comforting. Ben felt Hux move before he saw it, and he turned his head to meet him halfway. Their foreheads collided.

“Ouch,” Ben yelped. Armitage chuckled, looking away. Ben burned with the desire to look at him but at the same time found himself too scared to do it. Instead, he saw Leen over Armie’s shoulder, making obscene gestures at him with two hands, the other two roaming the body of the girl he’d seen her dance with before. Ben rolled his eyes. He looked at Hux again and this time they saw each other drawing closer.

It wasn’t a good kiss. They weren’t compatible and couldn’t predict what the other would do next, which ended up with their teeth clashing and too much saliva out of their mouths. When Ben finally broke the kiss a little later, they kept their foreheads pressed together to avoid having to look at each other. Ben was now kneading Hux’s ass with his hands, growing hungrier for his touch. He wasn’t sure which of them initiated the next kiss, but he knew they were equally desperate for it, clumsy or not. 

They forgot entirely about the world around them. Ben could hear the music but it felt like something happening in his head rather than outside. The moment shrank to just the two of them rocking gently with the tune, hands daring to explore further into uncharted territories. Sweat gathered on Ben’s back, sticking his shirt to his skin. He was hot all over, and only then did he pull away.

“Let’s go somewhere more private,” he whispered, his lips puffy. Armitage nodded, giving him another little peck on the lips. They made their way out of the bar, stepping into the crisp air. It was quite late but Ben felt more awake than ever. A breeze sent a shiver down his sweaty back and he could see Armie fight against the cold. The night was beautiful, Theed as lovely and domestic as ever, and Ben wished they could take a long walk down the picturesque streets, hand in hand. Instead, he offered Armie his jacket, because despite his shiver, he was too hot to wear it. Armie accepted it gratefully, not even protesting.

The port where they’d left the ship wasn’t far away and it was a little uphill so they warmed up on the way. There was urgency in their gait, as if they feared the magic of the moment would wane if they didn’t pour more oil into the fire of it. Ben barely checked if the ship was alright when they stumbled inside, and he didn’t have to guide Armitage to the small living room. They collapsed onto a sofa, Ben’s jacket crumpled beneath them, having slipped off Armie’s shoulders. A small alarm rang in Ben’s head, asking him if they really should be taking things this far so fast, but he silenced it. They were just having innocent fun. 

It ended up being, perhaps inevitably, not so innocent. They didn’t really have sex, Ben supposed, sex required conscious effort. They just made out and held onto each other until their touch-starved bodies sang with pleasure. And again. And for the third time. The last time Ben checked the chrono, it was nearly four in the morning and he was still wearing his briefs, as if that was still off the limits. Armie was lying on top of him, a pendant on his neck still cool to the touch, despite how long they’ve held it in the warmth of their bodies. Hux’s hair was darker on the sides where it was dampened by sweat, and he smelled like the galaxy’s most heady aphrodisiac. That was the last coherent memory Ben had of the night.

***

Ben was woken up by an ache in the left side of his nape. He was lying on his side, his face itchy from the course surface of the sofa. There was a blanket wrapped around his legs which he was certain wasn’t there when he fell asleep. He blinked a couple of times to focus his eyes. 

He was only wearing sticky underwear and his body ached when he stretched. He should have replaced that sofa for a more comfortable one. He never did, because he was quite used to putting things off and because he never really spent time on it anyway. As he was rolling his head from one shoulder to another, he noticed a purple bruise around his nipple that looked suspiciously like a bitemark. 

_ So much for taking things slow,  _ Ben thought. He stood up and went to take a shower and put some clothes on. He noticed the pile on the ground by the sofa only had his own clothes, which meant Armie had either carried his away or put them on. For a brief moment, Ben feared Hux had fled from his ship and got off planet with the first pirate he could find. Ben stopped his imagination from running too wild, knowing it might end up constructing rather impossible scenarios. Once in his refresher, he had a better chance to study himself in the mirror – the bruise he’d first spotted was certainly not the only one. Armie seemed to be rather fascinated with his chest, his left nipple was sensitive to the touch. Ben kicked off his briefs and got into the shower. 

He’d bought a water-based shower for his ship the moment the entire engine was assembled. He had it before he had a bed, after very mature deliberation. Sonic was effective in removing dirt off his body but it never left him  _ feeling  _ clean. He washed himself with a bar of soap, his eyes closed. Bits of last night replayed in his mind and he caught himself smiling. Armitage was surprisingly adorable and expressive when Ben found a way under his stoic facade, and he had a very skilled, eager tongue. Ben lingered for a while on the subject, and his day was off to a great start. 

With a towel wrapped around his waist, Ben made his way to his cabin to get some clothes. There was still no sight of Armie, even if Ben was quite certain that someone had used his refresher while he was asleep. Dressed in a simple t-shirt and leggings, as if he were to go for his morning run, he went to check the kitchenette. He made himself some caf and grabbed a nutrition bar off the counter. 

“I’m here,” Armitage called. Ben followed his voice and found him curled in the pilot’s seat, datapad in his hands.

“Hi,” Ben said tentatively. He didn’t dare look at Hux; what exactly was their relationship now? He definitely wished there’d be more to it, but Armie seemed to be caught up in his work, his no-nonsense attitude obvious. Ben was certain he hadn’t made last night up, the bruises were rather conclusive evidence, but Armie didn’t seem to want to recall it.

“Good morning,” Hux replied, “I hope you don’t mind I borrowed your datapad. I promise I haven’t opened anything of yours or hacked it.”

“It’s okay.”

There was tense silence between them, in which Armie’s eyes flickered between Ben and the screen. His lips parted as if he were about to say something, and then he pursed them again. 

“So how many guns do we have to sell today?” he asked at last. 

“I don’t know the exact number, but we sold the majority yesterday. There are just the less specific ones left, those should sell pretty quickly,” Ben replied. He’d have to check the exact number in his datapad, but one was currently resting on Armie’s lap and his comm was somewhere in the mess of clothes in the living room. He should have cleaned that up. Hux was wearing last night’s clothes, slightly wrinkled in places, but he still looked too radiant for it to be an issue. 

“Good. I’d like to see the city a little before we leave,” Armitage said.  _ You said that last night,  _ Ben thought, but he didn’t say it out loud. He wasn’t sure which parts of last night were safe to discuss. 

“We could go see it now. People are not very keen on making illegal deals in the light of day,” Ben suggested. 

“Okay, you’re the boss here.” Armitage laid the datapad on the nearest panel and stood up. He seemed a little off, but Ben hoped it was caused by a lack of sleep rather than discomfort from being in his company. 

“Have you eaten anything?” Ben asked, determined to be a good host at least.

“I didn’t want to meddle with your stock,” Hux shrugged. 

“That’s admirable of you. I could offer you something here, but how about we go for a proper breakfast in a restaurant?” 

“That would be splendid,” Armie said, his eyes shining.

“Let me put on something more fancy and we’re good to go.” 

Ben felt Armie’s eyes on himself, as if he only now felt safe to check Ben out. Ben turned away, unsure how to feel. On one hand, he worked hard to get the body he had, and he knew he looked good – Armie certainly seemed to appreciate him. But if he did, should Ben say something? Shouldn’t Hux? Ben knew he’d like to kiss Armie again, and again and again, but he wasn’t sure how good of an idea it was. They had their separate jobs, time-consuming ones, and while a long distance relationship worked perfectly for his parents, who seemed unable to be together or separated and could only meet a few times a year for an explosive liaison, Ben craved stability and a partner he could rely on being there, if not every morning then at least for the majority of them. He was drawn to Armie like his father was to dangerous missions, but he was afraid of getting so close when it would hurt to sever the ties. He wasn’t going to give up his job, and neither was Armie, he knew, not that he’d want him to. He couldn’t rationally expect someone to give up what they liked and be happy. 

“I’ll wait here for you,” Armie said, after what felt like an eternity, interrupting Ben’s train of thought. Ben nodded and disappeared into his cabin again. He spent embarrassingly long on his choice of outfit – for someone who’d actively decided not to pursue any semblance of spark there was between them, he sure wanted to look good for Hux. When he finally came back into the cockpit, Armitage studied him carefully. Ben felt as nervous as he did before his first solo mission. Armie looked up at last.

“This is so unfair of you.”

“What?” Ben frowned.

“You know I only have yesterday’s set of clothes and you put on something like this,” Hux explained.

“I’d lend you something but I’m not sure I have anything that would fit you,” Ben shrugged. 

“Yeah, don’t worry, I’ll just have to be funny enough.”

Ben wanted to tell Hux that he was both beautiful and funny enough, but the words never made it past his lips. 

They ate their breakfast on a terrace of a small café hidden under a branchy tree. The air smelled of the promise of a warm, sunny day. Ben kept turning his face towards the sun like a flower, seeking warmth. Armie on the other hand tried to stay as hidden in the shade as possible, tugging at the long sleeves of his tunic. Ben bought him a broad-brimmed hat in a shop nearby before they went any further on their way through the city. Freckles have already appeared on Armie’s nose, and while Ben found them extremely adorable, he didn’t want his guest to get sunburnt. 

They spent nearly the entire day walking through the narrow streets and admiring ancient buildings as well as small businesses. Ben recounted some of Naboo’s history to Armie, and they sat down under the feet of a very life-like statue of Padmé Naberrie on the patio of the palace. Ben could see Armie’s eyes shifting to the obviously empty space left by the statue of Senator Palpatine. He recalled the tumult about it – some said it should be destroyed, because one did not keep up statues of tyrants, while others argued for its preservation, citing all sorts of reasons, it being an example of fine artistry, its historic value, and the fact that it had been there long before Palpatine proclaimed himself Emperor being the loudest. There was also, Ben knew, a point only a few people dared to hold publicly, that Naboo prospered better than ever in the times of the Empire, since Palpatine had never forgotten where he came from. It seemed to Ben that there was a lot of commotion for nothing about it – as if the statue would suddenly come to life and seize power over the galaxy again. He supposed he couldn’t blame people for the lingering worry; nobody had seen the Emperor’s dead body, and when there’s no body, there is a chance of life. While everyone knew of the role Luke Skywalker had played in the Emperor’s demise, the details were known to a limited circle of people, which didn’t even include Ben. 

Ben narrated the history of the statue to Armie who listened eagerly. They discussed politics then, almost inevitably, and Ben could see how different their upbringing was – what stories they were told, Ben before bed by his family, Armie at the First Order nursery, surrounded by dozens of toddlers left there by their parents to be brainwashed and conditioned into little soldiers. They wondered, two children of the same history, where the truth lay. Ben recalled his childhood quest for answers about his grandfather – his parents refused to talk about him altogether, for which he could honestly hardly blame them, though it still made him angry, and his uncle could only offer moralistic musings on the nature of good and bad. 

Armitage on the other hand had received very particular explanation for the things that came before him and for the role he were to play in the future. His mother had made things much more complicated when she took him from the easy, black and white world of the First Order and sentenced him to a life on the run until he was old enough to face his enemies. Ben remembered her only vaguely – she was beautiful, he thought, but sad and tired. Armitage showed him a holograph of her inside the pendant on his neck. Ben suspected she had died but he didn’t dare ask Hux that, and it saddened him more than he’d expect. He could feel that after she took him away from the Order, Hux had no one but her. 

They finished the day watching a sunset from the highest step of a garden staircase. The red-orange hues made Armie’s face seem to glow, and Ben caught himself watching him more than the sunset in front of him. Armie was hugging his calves, knees tucked under his chin, and he was shaking a little from the cold. Ben had offered to go back to the ship and get a jacket but Hux refused to miss the sunset. They sat in silence and Ben realised that in that moment, he was happy to be alive. 

Armie remained sitting motionless for a while after the last bits of the sun disappeared behind the horizon, his eyes closing. The garden had embraced them in a tight, heavy embrace of flowery scents, so intense it nearly drove Ben crazy. Armitage on the other hand seemed to really enjoy the overwhelming sweetness. He looked a little like some animal basking in the warmth of a sun. 

“We should get back to work, shouldn’t we?” Hux mumbled suddenly, without moving. Ben started, Armie’s voice seemed louder than it was after the long quiescence. 

“I should, you’re a guest,” he replied.

“I’d like to help,” Armie insisted, “I owe you this, for this wonderful day.”

“It was my pleasure,” Ben said, and he meant it. He would have said it either way, but just this once it didn’t have to be an empty phrase. 

“Mine too,” Armie smiled.

***

It had been five weeks since Ben left Hux on the main base of his organization. Ben had taken a rather dangerous job in an attempt to distract himself from the aching emptiness he felt. Everything reminded him of Armitage – the sofa in the living room, his pilot’s seat, even some pieces of his clothing. He felt like a pathetic teenager, but in his defence, he had never had a proper teenage crush, having known very few interesting people his age at the time. Still, he should get over it. Or do something about it. 

He got as far as looking up Hux’s company on the holonet and browsing its offer. Armie’s best work, the enhanced TIE, wasn’t on sale though, so Ben closed the tab again, feeling stupid and angry. If he wanted to do something about their relationship, he should have when he still had the chance. He was sure Armie wouldn’t have refused him, but he didn’t make the first step either, and now they were gone off to separate ends of the galaxy. Ben was headed back to his office on Coruscant, to visit his mother and to meet up with a potential customer who for refused to discuss the details of their commission over comm, but promised Ben it would be worth his time. That was quite a brave statement and Ben wanted to meet this mysterious person if only to see who’d be as daring. 

He was lounging in his chair, having gone through his usual round of workout exercises, and thinking of Armie. His hand slipped into his pants, almost reflexively, and he felt ashamed of himself when his eyes closed and he saw Armie in a series of mostly impossible positions. It had become a routine of sorts – do something to occupy his mind, call it a day because he was too tired to continue, promise himself not to think of Armie, fail at not thinking of Armie, jerk off to overused, not very imaginative fantasies involving Armie, repeat. It was as if he was five again and obsessed with a friend so ephemeral he sometimes doubted his existence, except this time said friend was also unbearably attractive. 

He read a little after that, nearly convincing himself that he had always been interested in the history of Arkanis. His focus kept slipping off, wondering if Armie had visited the places mentioned in the book, what he thought of the historical personages or if he liked the traditional meals. Ben went to bed not long after, staring at the ceiling for a long time, wondering what he was doing with his life.

He reached Coruscant early in the morning. Leia was free for lunch that day because whoever was originally supposed to go with her cancelled, so Ben seized the opportunity and sent his mysterious customer a message that he’d meet them in the afternoon. Food was the only topic he was always willing to discuss with Leia; everything else tended to get heated between them, worming its way into politics one way or another, but food was uncomplicated. 

Leia looked tired, which was old news to Ben, yet he didn’t refrain from commenting on it. She shrugged him off, giving him her usual excuse of “someone has to keep the galaxy spinning” and turned his concern against him when she somehow sensed his mood. She always swore she didn’t use the Force on him and it was all just motherly instinct, and Ben didn’t care how she could always tell, but she did nonetheless.

“It’s nothing,” he protested, poking his food with the fork, “I’m just tired.”

“Ben, don’t make me look like a fool. Many people were cleverer about it and failed. Perhaps I could help.”

Ben scoffed, which was, admittedly, a mistake. Leia fixed him with a pointed stare, as if daring him to express that sentiment aloud. 

“I don’t think you could help,” he said, “I can’t imagine you’d ever get into a situation like this.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re not a cowardly idiot,” Ben said bluntly, stabbing his food with too much Force. Leia frowned but didn’t correct him, probably recalling there was no hope to fix his eating habits. He could behave himself if he were in public, posing as Ben Organa, the senator’s son, but that was about all the effort he was willing to exert. 

“Why did you, out of all your father’s qualities, have to inherit his flair for the dramatics?” Leia sighed, “Though it seems you’ve already figured out the solution to whatever’s ailing you.”

The solution was simple really. Ben just had to get in contact with Armitage and ask him out. He could invite him to accompany him on another job, or offer his knowledge of ships. He could even directly ask Armitage for a job. But all of those had a common catch – he’d have to gather the courage to do it. 

“How’s politics, Ma?” Ben asked, changing the subject to something he was sure would catch her attention. 

“Tedious, as usual. I don’t miss the war, but damn, if things weren’t easier back then. You didn’t have to think about who your enemy was, you thought about how to effectively destroy them. Nowadays, I’m always looking over my shoulder because I fear someone is ready to stab me in the back.”

“I thought the First Order was a common enemy now,” Ben mused. 

“They’re a bunch of fools playing make-believe that the Empire is still alive,” Leia said, “I keep an eye on them, but they don’t really have any vision.”

“They have a lot of money though,” Ben pointed out, “and some of the best, nicest ships in the galaxy. They may not have any idea what to do with them but they certainly have capital.”

“Were you making friends with the enemy?” 

“I was doing business with them,” Ben shrugged, “they pay a lot better than the New Republic does, I must say.”

“There are rumours about who runs the Order. Luke says there is someone dark pulling strings from the shadows.”

“I only met their General,” Ben shrugged, “seemed about as Force sensitive as a shaak to me.”

“Luke says you’re not too old to help him yet,” Leia remarked, watching Ben as if daring him to oppose her.

“I’m not letting the Force any deeper than it already is. I had enough nightmares when I was a child, thank you very much.”

“Everyone has nightmares.”

“Yeah, but not everyone’s stop when they actively cut themselves off from the Force,” Ben muttered, “we’ve been over this a thousand times. I made my mind. If I remember correctly, you didn’t learn to use the Force either.”

“But that’s different. I was too old when I learnt about it, and busy–”

“You were as old as Luke were. And I’m busy too, you know. I know you don’t consider smuggling a real job, but I’m pretty good at it!” Ben said finishing his meal and setting the cutlery down on the plate with a little too much force. Several heads turned towards them, and Ben didn’t have to be Force sensitive to sense all the murmuring. 

“I just want what’s best for you,” Leia protested. Ben bit the inside of his lower lip to stop himself from shouting at her. 

“My job is what’s best for me,” he said, reached inside his pocket and threw some credit chips on the table. It was too much, but he didn’t care. Or better yet, he could show her that he didn’t care about money. He had so much of it he didn’t have to count it. He knew she disapproved of this, and it gave him perverse pleasure. “Thank you for the lunch, mother.”

Ben stormed out of the restaurant. It was in one of the highest floors there were in Coruscant, in a very luxurious quarter, and suddenly all the glitz around him made him feel sick. He took a cab and asked to be driven to his office. The driver looked him over twice and made sure they had the address right when Ben gave it to them. Ben repeated it again and again, cold anger bubbling in his chest. All these people, rich and fancy, thought themselves so much better than those who lived and worked on the lower decks. For all her protection of the poor, Leia was just as snobbish as the rest of them. She had to put on the mask for the sake of being taken seriously by her political opponents, but it seemed that over the years, she forgot where the pretense ended and where she began. 

Ben gave the driver a very generous tip when he got out of the hovercar in front of his office, and felt a great deal of gratification upon seeing their astonished face. The building hiding his office was very shabby on purpose, but not too much, the perfect protection from unwanted visitors. Ben waited for the cab to disappear before unlocking the door and stepping inside. 

He disabled the alarm system and only then turned the light on. Everything was where he left it, covered in the faintest layer of dust. Ben took a rag and cleaned the table, the chair and all the visible surfaces, then mopped the floor. His anger dissipated as he worked, and when the doorbell rang, he was sitting behind his desk, looking perfectly put together. He let the visitor in and stood up to greet them. 

“Good afternoon, what can I–” he trailed off mid sentence. There, in front of him, stood Armitage Hux looking as radiant as ever. 

“–do for me?” Hux finished the sentence and smiled. “I guess you could hug me for starters.”

Ben was already wrapping his arms around him then, and Armie laughed. “I told you it would be worth your time.”

“You’re so dramatic, dragging me all the way down here and making me clean up the office,” Ben babbled. 

“Well, at least I didn’t visit your holonet site every day without getting in touch with you,” Hux retorted.

“How did you know that?”

“Lucky guess,” Armitage shrugged, “I noticed someone kept connecting to it from the same computer. Ships are not exactly something you go window shopping for, so I supposed it could be you.”

“You know I would have bought that TIE if it were on offer.”

“I know,” Armie smiled and let go of Ben, reaching into his pocket for something, “that’s why I made one for you.”

“What?!”

Armie handed him a datapad. The screen was lit, displaying a simulation of the ship Ben had first seen months ago, except this one was black and red instead of the usual black and silver. Scrolling down, Ben found an overview of the specifics. 

“I’ll need you to finish up the settings of it, it’ll be programmed to your fingerprints and voice,” Armie said when Ben looked up.

“You’re making fun of me,” Ben whispered, disbelieving.

“Is it too much?” Armie asked, “I couldn’t figure out what else to give you.”

“You don’t have to give me anything,” Ben shook his head, tears springing into his eyes.

“I know, but I wanted to. This way, you’ll have to go with me to the base to have it set up.”

Ben was too overcome with emotion to say anything, so he pulled Armie closer for a kiss, the datapad squished between them. Hux kissed him back, and Ben was almost glad for the time they spent separated if this was the reward for meeting again. 

Ben’s hands itched to bring Armie closer, to touch him again, to leave marks in retaliation for all the bruising that haunted him for days after their last meeting, but the datapad was still between them. He tried pulling it out to set it on the table, but Armie seemed to be even more enthusiastic about their kiss that he was. Ben broke the kiss, gasping for air.

“Let’s get more comfortable,” he suggested. 

“Does that mean we’ll make-out on your table or do you plan on lasting long enough to get into our ships?” Armitage asked. Ben freed the datapad from between them, and Armie automatically pressed himself closer to him. 

“I’m not sure the ships are a viable option,” Ben breathed out, trying to stay focused with Hux rubbing his thigh against Ben’s crotch.

“Good call,” Armie said, pushing Ben towards the table. Ben had barely enough time to toss the datapad onto his chair when the backs of his thighs hit the tabletop and he collapsed onto it, Armie looming above him. 

“I missed you,” Ben murmured, and Armie slowed down his attack on Ben’s mouth, their lips barely apart. His breath tickled Ben.

“I know,” Hux said at last, “you’re adorable like that.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Come talk kylux to me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/EllstraH) and [tumblr](http://www.ellstra.tumblr.com/).


End file.
